


the way he moves

by cliffakitten



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Coming In Pants, Grinding, Lap Dances, M/M, Stripper Ashton, Stripper!AU, ashton is there to help with a few things, ashton wears a cowboy hat, calum is a dude!virgin, calum very much approves of this choice, face fucking, handjobs, moral crisis, this is basically a story in which cashton always fuck around with my top/bottom dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-02 13:59:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5250731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cliffakitten/pseuds/cliffakitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calum's running his hands up Ashton's chest, tracing collarbones with his fingers to calm himself. “Sorry, I'm just not used to all this yet.” he explains.<br/>Ashton fixes him with a curious look, “Like, the stripper thing?”<br/>“No like, the dude thing.”<br/>~<br/>Calum gets dragged into a strip club by Luke and Michael after they find out he's into dudes, where he finds out they're the worse wing men in history and that he has a thing for cowboys apparently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when the boys wore those cowboy hats on stage....yeah that's how long this fic has been in my head and half completed in my folders, months later and here we are. I love Cashton so much and I always say I should write more so ta daaaa, enjoy!

 

Calum had been to strip clubs before.

It was the friends version of going out for drinks with your dad for the first time, some weird kind of bro/dude ritual – a coming of age – when you take one of your best mates out for the night and try not to piss yourself giggling, while you all watch him get a lap dance from a girl in cheap blonde extensions and fake boobs.

So yeah, Calum had done the whole strip club scene...just not the kind with dudes.

It's not like it was some kind of sexual awakening, he'd known for a while that he maybe, probably wouldn't mind doing stuff with a guy. But the years of being in a _very_ straight frat house through college meant that there wasn't exactly an opportunity to explore this part of himself.

Then came that one night with Michael and Luke a few weeks ago, a couple of months after graduation and both bout to dive head first into internships and 'the actual adult world', when the thought had literally slipped out of his mouth. Calum blamed the five tequila shots and the unfairly hot bartender entirely for the whole thing.

All in all, it wasn't exactly the smoothest way he had pictured revealing this piece of information about himself to his closest friends. But it was done and they had reacted even better than Calum had ever hoped for. He just hadn't expected this reaction to land him sat in the booth of a gay strip club with a luminous green cocktail in front of him and surrounded by half naked guys.

To be honest Calum had no idea where to look.

Luke, on the other hand, seemed to be having a marvellous time. Although Calum suspected it had something to do with the three cocktails he had made his way through in the past half hour. “This is great.” he giggles into his drink. “Isn't this so great.”

“Yeah, Luke, it's pretty great.” Calum agrees, glancing over to where Michael is stood watching some guy do things on a pole Calum didn't even think were possible. It was impossible to tell if his friend's attention was because he found it attractive or was just weirdly curious.

“So great.” Luke sighs, head rolling down the booth to rest on Calum's shoulder, spilling a bit of his drink as he does. “Oops.” he mutters rubbing at the drops that had landed on his jeans.

Calum smiles fondly, “You've always been a cute drunk.” he says, taking Luke's drink away from him before he causes further damage.

The blonde boy grins up at him before launching back as if burnt. “Stop looking at me, look at the dudes, that's why we are here.” he says, fingers finding Calum's chin and turning his head away.

“Luke, I -”

“Look even Michael is doing a better job than you.” Luke laughs, nodding off towards their friend who had his head tilted to the side, expression torn between concern and awe at the guy in front of him. “We need to find you a guy.”

Calum is just about to come back with some kind of smart ass reply, but it died on the tip of his tongue, because that was when he saw him.

Standing just off the side of the stage, jeans low cut enough that Calum could see the V disappearing into the hem in the shadow of the lighting as he turns to the side. There's a cowboy hat on his head and his hair came to just above his shoulder, with a sleeveless denim jacket on and Calum hasn't even seen his face yet but this guy is already one of the most beautiful people he's ever seen.

The music changes around the room but Calum doesn't pay it any attention, vaguely registers Luke's chattering stopping as a few guys in cowboy outfits walk on stage. Calum would like to say he kept some dignity, would like to say how cool and calm he stayed, but if he did Calum would be a big fat liar.

The only saving grace was that at least Luke didn't hear the physical gasp that left his body when the lights came back on. 

It was like having a outer body experience, he could hear Luke saying thing to the side of him, why he was wasting brain power on talking when he could be _watching_ was something Calum didn't even try to understand. The guy wasn't even front and centre, second from the left and doing the same boarder line cheesy hip rotations as the overly ripped guy at the front. He was smiling and Calum couldn't tear his eyes away.

The denim jacket was gone, just like Calum's grasp on any kind of reality that didn't involve tanned skin and subtly toned abs. When it came to hands grasping suggestively at the stereotypical cowboy belt buckles, he was almost positive that this is what having a stroke feels like.

By the time the music ended, Calum was craning his head over the crowd, trying to catch a last glimpse of the guy who he was currently planning out a formation of a religion dedicated to his thighs. “Guess we found you a guy.” Luke laughs from next to him, his voice so close to his ear that Calum jumps a little.

“What, no he's just...he danced good, alright.” Calum just about chokes out.

Luke's face goes from playful smirk to 'I'm planning something fairly evil right now' and it makes something flip in his gut. “Sure, sure.” the blonde says deceptively casually. “Stay here, maybe grab another drink, I'm just gonna go and save Mike.” he says, sliding out of the booth.

Calum does indeed get another drink, if Luke's plotting something then god knows he's probably going to need it. He loses sight of his friends after a few minutes and his fingers start tapping out a rhythm on the overly fancy, double shot-ed cocktail he had ordered. Far too busy trying to get a lock on where Michael and Luke had disappeared off to, to be prepared for sudden company.

“Hey, are you Calum?”

A spark of _something_ shot up Calum's spine at the low voice in his ear, somehow perfectly clear over the deep thrum of the bass now filling the club. He knows the voice even though he's never heard it before in his life, knows that it's curly hair and sparkling eyes waiting for him when he turns around. “Um, yeah, yeah that's me. Hi.”

Sometimes Calum really hates his shyness, rather hates how it can suddenly creep up on him when he assumed everything was under control, turning him into a blushing awkward mess. Yeah, he could do without that. Sure, it's not as bad now as when he was younger, he's able to handle it, judge the moment and pick his times to say something and not stutter or feel like a jack ass immediately after.

This was not one of those times.

Calum half wishes he could sink into the floor as the gorgeous boy in front of him starts giggling – only half, because him vanishing would mean that this guy would too and Calum would rather put up with a few moment of awkwardness to stare just a little longer.  “I’m Ashton, you’re friends said you might be interested in a private session.” The guy – Ashton – says with a smirk, just behind him Calum can see Luke and Michael giggling like school children, the taller boy spilling half his hot pink cocktail down his hand.

“Yeah, sure I mean that would be….nice?” he finishes lamely, Ashton keeps looking at him, those eyes staring into Calum’s own and his legs are starting to feel a little like jelly.

_be cool damnit be cool_

Ashton’s laughing which is a good thing Calum decides, if only to preserve his mental state from failing him further tonight. “Well, I think I can manage ‘nice’.” He says and the next thing Calum knows is Ashton’s taking his hand, lacing their fingers together and pulling him towards the private rooms at the back.

It’s a strange experience, he’s never felt small before but the way Ashton’s hand covers his makes Calum feel it for the first time. The other boy glances back over his shoulder and smiles, putting the nervous sensation in his stomach at ease but doing fuck all for the butterflies whirling around in there.

Ashton gives his hand a squeeze when they reach the curtain covered booths, pulling back the curtain. “Right this way, pretty boy.” He says, holding the fabric back for Calum to enter, swallowing hard.

The space behind the curtain is nice, small and practically every surface covered in some shade of purple velvet fabric, a couch stretching around the whole back wall. There's a violet fluorescent tube light flickering slightly, Calum suspects it's for some kind of 'mood lighting'.

“You know you should really have that looked at.” he says, nodding at the light above the couch.

Ashton smiles, hand lacing with Calum's as he pulls him over to the fancy velvet couch, sitting him down on it. “Well if I knew you were going to get picky over light fittings, I would have brought you to a different room.” he laughs and Calum really hopes that the way his heart is thumping about isn't completely obvious, as Ashton throws a leg over his lap, settling down on top of him.

There's a strong hit of _guy_ that finds Calum's nose and something in his chest practically purrs in contentment as his skin prickles with excitement. The music from the club on the other side of the curtain is still beating out some cliché dance tune and Ashton slowly starts rolling his hips to the beat.

His white shirt is hanging open and Calum's hands are clamped firmly on to the back of the couch, desperate to reach out and touch the slightly glittery covered skin but not knowing if he could. Would that be weird? Would it be weird not to? Ashton's hands are resting on Calum's shoulders, he can feel the other boy's gaze on his face but just can't seem to meet it.

“Hey, relax yeah.” Ashton says, tipping Calum's chin up with his fingers. “This is meant to be fun.”

_oh yeah, fun_

“Sorry, a little nervous I guess.” Calum replies, biting back a gasp when Ashton moves his hips _just right_ and okay yeah this was getting really good now. “C-can I touch you?” he asks, because Ashton's chest is right there, literally in front of his face and it's been years of waiting, wishing for an opportunity like this to come along that Calum thinks he might burst if he has to wait any longer.

But then Ashton is laughing and Calum's wondering if what he said was wrong or not for a moment before the other boy is speaking. “Yeah, yeah you can go for it.” he chuckles, “Lovely of you to ask though.” and there's an almost fond look on his face that really shouldn't make Calum's stomach flip more than it is, but he'll put that down to the semi half-naked guy grinding on his lap.   

It's like being given an all access pass to a candy shop, Calum doesn't even know where to start, his hands just sort of hovering in the air between them brushing against the almost see through shirt. There are larger hands covering his, bringing them down to rest on Ashton's hips, the boy on top of him giggling softly. “There you go, that's better right?”

Calum nods quickly, Ashton's skin burning under his touch as he trails his hands upwards. It's all so new, so different he doesn't know where to start but at the same time wants it all and everything at once, it's a little overwhelming. It's even harder to keep a straight head when Ashton keeps moving like that on top of him and it's starting to be obvious at how it's effecting him.

“Looks like someone is beginning to have a good time.” Ashton smirks, eyes darting down to the rapidly growing situation in Calum's pants.

He blushes, which is a little ridiculous, almost forgetting that it was okay to get a hard on from a guy right now. “Oh, um sorry.” he mutters and Ashton's laughing again.

“Babe, this is my job. Honestly I'd be a little worried if you didn't.”

Calum's running his hands up Ashton's chest, tracing collarbones with his fingers to calm himself. “Sorry, I'm just not used to all this yet.” he explains.

Ashton fixes him with a curious look, “Like, the stripper thing?”

“No like, the dude thing.”

Realisation flashes over Ashton's face as he lets out a soft 'ohh' “So you haven't done...anything?” Calum shakes his head, he feels like an idiot, there's a hot guy in his lap and he has a semi and he kind of hates Luke and Michael for suddenly springing this on him when he's too stuttery to make use of the situation and act cool.

“Hey, hey it's alright. I'm actually kinda flattered you picked me as your first guy anything.” Ashton tells him, he's cupping Calum's face in his hands and the whole thing seems all too intimate and personal to be happening with a damn stripper for gods sake.

Ashton's stopped moving his hips and Calum actually whines before he can stop himself, instantly feeling embarrassed by his openness. He's spent years bottling it all up and to suddenly be in a environment where it's completely okay to get hard ons around guys, _because_ of guys, and want to mark up the set of collarbones right in front of his face just because he can, is getting some used to. 

“Okay, so how about if we go baby steps?” Ashton asks, running a calming hand through Calum's hair and down the side of his neck. “How about you kiss me first?” he suggests, gesturing to himself like it wasn't obvious who he was talking about, or maybe it's because all Calum is doing is blinking stupidly up at him like he hasn't quite caught on yet.

“I-I don't think that's in the, um, the price.” Calum says, eyes fixed on the dip in Ashton's chest bones a he runs his fingers down, he's blushing why the fuck is he blushing.

“It's fine. I mean, technically I'm not exactly supposed to, it's not like I just go around kissing all of my customers.” Ashton explains, “But my job is to get you to relax and have a good time, and if this helps do that then alright then. You get over your nerves and I get to kiss a really cute guy, so it's a win win really.” he finishes, shrugging like it's nothing, and to him Calum guesses it isn't, a kiss is nothing to taking off your clothes in front of people. If Ashton can do that then Calum can definitely kiss him.

“Okay, alright, no big deal right?” he says, forcing his eyes up to meet Ashton's. They really are pretty eyes. Ashton is very pretty. He's very pretty and Calum very much wants to kiss him.

It's like jumping off a cliff, bunching his hands tight in Ashton's shirt and closing his eyes tightly before darting forward. It's quick and sweet and over in a second, possibly the briefest kiss ever given in all of human existence. Calum barely remembers the feeling of it, forgets to take it in over the screaming in his head that _holy shit im gonna kiss a guy_.

He feels annoyed at himself the second it's over. It's like he had a coupon for a single kiss and he just completely wasted it. But Ashton's laughing – Calum can't remember meeting someone who giggles as much in his life – he's leaning forward, hands on Calum's shoulders as he brushes their noses together. “C'mon, pretty boy, really go for it.” he whispers, lips grazing Calum's as he speaks.

Well, who's Calum to say no to that, god knows he’s never exactly been affected by pet names before, but ever time Ashton says those words there’s a definite jump in his pants. He's slipping a hand around Ashton's neck pulling him that breath of space down to lock their lips, this time not pulling back. Ashton hums into the kissed, pleased and Calum bets he's smiling, he kind of wants to too because it feels so good. He's finally doing this, finally able to kiss a hot guy without the worry of judgement from anyone around him. Fuck if he's not going to make the most of it.

His hands fall from Ashton's neck straight to the other boy's ass, gripping it tight through the jeans as he sucks Ashton's bottom lip into his mouth. Calum's trying to keep it cool, keep the build up slow but then there's a tongue swiping his bottom lip and fuck it, just fuck it.

He feels like he's fifteen and kissing a girl for the first time again, can feel his hands shaking so he pulls Ashton closer, feeling the other boy gasp into the kiss a little.  Calum would make the effort to be more embarrassed about the fact that he is pretty much fully hard in his pants, if he couldn't feel that Ashton was just about the same way.

They're pulling away after a few minutes and Calum bites back a whine, “Well that was definitely some progress there.” Ashton says, and Calum feels a little swell of pride at the breathlessness of his voice and how it cracks ever so slightly.

He grins, taking in how Ashton looks just as ruffled and dizzy as he feels. They both just look at each other, the heavy bass of the music filling the space along with their heavy breathing as Calum tries to get his head around one of the best kisses of his life. One of the best and it was with a stripper.

Part of him thinks he should be more bothered about that fact than he is, but Ashton is there, sparkly eyed and puffy lipped and fuck Calum wants to kiss him again. If Ashton doesn't stop staring at Calum's lips like that he's going to.

Ashton's eyes flicker up to Calum's and he starts nibbling on his bottom lip and yeah okay that's not cool. They're leaning in again, like magnets, noses brushing and Calum can feel Ashton's breath ghosting over his lips.

The curtain is pulled back and Ashton shoots away from him like he's been shocked. “Hey, Ash quit hogging the room, yeah, others got to work too.” a woman says, Calum recognises her from the welcome desk as they came in.

“Yeah sure I'll be right out.” Ashton tells her, lifting himself off Calum's lap with a sigh.

The younger boy pouts up at him, “Never even got your shirt off.” he mutters, accepting the hand Ashton offers out to him, to pull Calum to his feet.

“There's always next time, pretty boy.” he smiles, leading him towards the curtain. “If you want to come back that is, or if you want someone else then that's f-”

Calum cuts him off, pulling Ashton back in with fingers curling through belt loops and kissing him soundly. “Keep a space free for me.” he says softly, the wink he throws back at him as he pushes past the curtains, making him look a hell of a lot more confident and generally more with it than he feels.

It's like Calum has entered some kind of kiss coma, he's wandering around without really thinking, his legs are jelly-like and he barely even registers Luke and Michael bounding over to him like exited puppies.

Luke gets to him first, “Hey, so how was it? Did you like it? You liked him right?”

“Did you come in your pants or not?” Michael asks, and really Calum thinks that's pretty much the most accurate summary of them both.

“Dude, what the fuck, no.” he says as Luke swats Michael's arm and watches his face drop as least two solid months of teasing potential slip through his fingers.

“Fine, seriously though how was it?”

“Good, it was good. Not bad.” Calum says, shrugging easily like his lips aren't still tingling.

He doesn't expect the swat to the back of the head. “Um, _ow_.” he glares back at Michael, who's staring at him with wide eyes.

“Cal, it's a lap dance not some dinner my mother made.” he nearly squawks and Calum would probably giggle at the highness of Michael voice, like Luke is, if he had a bit more brain function. “You can't come out of there looking like you're high on some shit and say 'not bad.' What kind of friend are you!”

“Michael, you're straight, why do you even want to know?” Luke asks and Calum is glad of the interjection to be honest, as they head for the exit.

“What? I can't take an interest in one of my best friend’s sexual happiness now?”

“Please never use the term sexual happiness again.”

Calum thanks the years of friendship that let him block out the other two's bickering as easily as he does. It lets him glance back quickly as they head out the door before him, lets him see Ashton dancing with another guy on a small platform in the corner section of the room, sees the small gathering of men and a few women watching from the booths.

Ashton's a stripper.

Calum had actually almost forgotten about that tiny detail in their time together, Ashton made it easy to forget. He guesses he should feel weirder about all this, should feel a bit more concern for the warm flutter in his stomach as he runs his fingers over his lips, remembering the way the other boy felt. If he was smart he would.

But Calum had never been all that smart really.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, wow I honestly didn't expect so many of you to like this but I'm so happy you did, thank you so much for all the comments and kudos, you're all darlings :) all the love

It’s two weeks before Calum finds himself with another over the top cocktail in his hand and the smell of fake tan slowly making him lightheaded, (Although that may also partly be the cocktail as well) surrounded by the heavy beat of house music.

He’s at the bar, seeing as he came on his own this time, telling Luke and Michael that he was staying at the office to work late. His suit jacket thrown over the back of the stool and his tie slightly loosened, looking around it wasn’t an uncommon look what with it being a Wednesday and guys coming in for a mid week breather after work.

They were probably looking for a random guy to kill the time, the endless run of meetings, conferences and paperwork. Some probably had wives, girlfriends, families and a spare set of clothes in the back of the car to change into when they leave, hiding the perfumed smell of ‘men’ and the smudges of body glitter that rubbed off on their shirts and pants from the random guy half their age, whose name they didn’t know.

Calum didn’t have a wife or a family, he wanted to drift off to sleep with the scent clinging to his skin as some kind of proof that all of this actually happened. He definitely wasn’t looking for a random guy.

He was sure this wasn’t how you were meant to do this whole stripper thing, it wasn’t like there was a handbook or anything, an edition of _Strip Clubs For Dummies_. Did people even have regulars or was he just being very picky?

It was after he turned down the third guy in twenty minutes when the bartender came over, wiping a glass with a cloth and eyes flicking between Calum and the short, shirtless platinum blonde boy with a star tattoo on his neck, who can’t have been out of high school for a month, as he walked away.

“So which is it, you got a specific type or are you just straight and got lost?” the bar guy asks, throwing the cloth over his shoulder. He’s about Calum’s age, stocky build with arms that stretch the sleeves of the black t-shirt he’s wearing, possibly the only guy in the place without a touch of fake tan and dark hair in a greaser style with thick eyebrows to match.

Calum laughs, the guy is grinning at him over the bar and he can tell he’s not saying it to be dickish. “I’m bi, but pretty specific you could say, yeah. Is it that obvious?”

“Well, you just turned away the club favourite without batting an eyelid, so yeah you’re pretty obvious.” The guy says, dropping the glass down onto a stack of others. “So what’s your type?”

Calum takes a sip of his drink, thinking for a moment. “More of a who, really.” He admits, watching the bar guy’s perfectly formed eye brow quirk up. “I saw him the last time I was here…he’s called, Ashton.” He’s blushing, it still feels weird talking about it so openly, even if Michael has literally asked him if he would ‘jump the bones’ of just about any male they came in contact with.

The bar guy nods, “Ah yeah, I know him. Quite the charmer isn’t he.” He adds with a wink and Calum nods with a sheepish smile. “How come you haven’t put in a request yet?”

“Kinda shy, I’m building up to it.” Calum shrugs. It’s true, he was going to get around to it soon…soon being in three or four more strong drinks.

“You’re adorable.” Bar guy says, eyes crinkling at the corners as he reaches over to ruffle Calum’s hair. “How bout another drink, on the house?”

“Sure, thanks.” Calum smiles, fixing his hair, he’s an intern he’ll take a free drink whenever he can, let’s face it. Especially when he’s spending his money on lap dances for Christ sake.

The drink that gets placed in front of him is bright blue and smells like coconut, he sips it through a straw while he dicks around on his phone for a while, the bar guy having disappeared off to the other side of the bar, talking to two girl’s with cheap plastic tiaras on their heads. The lady who takes requests passes by twice and each time Calum clenches his fist just a little bit tighter, _next time next time_ he tells himself.

It’s a few minutes later when he’s craning his neck over the tiara girls, watching the requests lady as she talks to someone in a booth, when he hears it. “Hey, pretty boy.”

Calum’s stomach flips, he doesn’t know if it’s more at the pet name or the low tone in which it reaches his ears. He turns in his chair, head whipping around so fast his neck clicks. “H-Hi, how did you…?” he stutters, taking in the guy who literally had been on his mind for two whole weeks, finally stood in front of him in nothing but a tight pair of pants and an almost sheer black vest, his hair tied back in a ponytail.

Ashton nods behind him, to where the bar guy is stood, watching them both with a amused expression. “Word gets around there’s a very picky guy at the bar, I have to say I’m flattered, never been someone’s ‘regular’ before.” He muses, smirking as Calum blushes, trying to hide it behind his drink.

“I find that fucking hard to believe.” He mutters, unable to drag his eyes away from the tanned skin of Ashton’s chest, how he can clearly see through the shirt when the right kind of light flashes onto it, following the deep V down into the hem of his pants. God Calum wants to touch, to touch and never stop.

He’s staring and it’s obvious that Ashton knows when Calum’s eyes finally rise up to meet his over the glass, he’s not exactly being subtle. “Do you want to finish that drink, or should we head somewhere else?” Ashton asks, stepping forward to trail a hand up Calum’s thigh.

There’s a sigh itching to get past his lips but Calum holds it in, pressing his lips into a cheeky smirk instead. “Drink first, I think.” He says, feeling pleased when Ashton lets out a breathy laugh.

“Alright then.” He agrees, pushing Calum’s legs apart and standing between them so the other boy can feel the heat of Ashton’s thighs through his pants. He watches like a child almost as Ashton takes the glass from his hand, raising it so the cool rim presses against Calum’s lips and grinning when they part without question.

The drink burns slightly as he swallows, but Ashton’s fixated on the way his throat moves, biting down softly on his own lip. There’s a fresh wave of confidence washing through Calum as he watches Ashton’s pupils blow wide. He fishes for the straw, hooking it into his mouth with his tongue and licking his lips before wrapping them around it.

The other boy groans, Calum only hears it because of the closeness of Ashton’s face to his own, eyes tracked on the way he’s sucking slow and deliberate on the straw and cheeks hollowing out. Ashton’s hand is tight around his thigh, he can feel strong fingers digging in through the material.

He lifts away with a pop of his lips, his head feels slightly fuzzy. It’s a strong ass drink and Calum’s slightly regretting just having a salad for his lunch earlier, the alcohol hitting straight into his system. “You wanna finish it off?” he asks, looking up at Ashton through his lashes.

“I can’t drink on the job.” Ashton mutters as Calum slides a hand up the arm Ashton is holding the glass in, slotting his fingers between the other boys.

“That’s a shame.” He says, picking the stick with the cherry stuck on it from the top and popping it straight into his mouth, removing the stick slowly.

A bit of juice escapes Calum can feel it running down his chin. Before he can stop it there’s a hand holding his jaw with two fingers, as Ashton’s thumb wipes over his lip, dragging it out so the pinker side is visible and shining in the club lights. Calum can’t help but wonder if there wasn’t a club full of people around them, if Ashton would kiss him. Wonders if he can again or if it was a one time offer which won’t be repeated. Fuck he hopes not.

Are you done now?” Ashton asks, his voice low and there’s an edge to it that makes the hairs on Calum’s arms stand on end. He nods and the other boy grabs the drink, not even looking when he places it on the bar, just grabbing Calum’s hand, “Good, let’s go.” He says, practically dragging him off the stool towards the curtain covered booths.

There’s giggles bubbling up in Calum’s throat as he gets guided through the club, the fact that he can clearly make out the slight bulge in the front of Ashton’s very tight pants, does help the giddy feeling that’s flowing through him. Not even when his back hit’s the velvet covers of the couch and Ashton settled in his lap not a second later.

“I like this.” Ashton hums, finger trailing down the length of Calum’s tie before grabbing the bottom in his hand and tugging him closer. Their noses brush as their foreheads press together, Ashton’s hips still working torturously slow circles against his. “Very handy.” He smirks, lips so close they’re brushing against Calum’s and the dark haired boy whines softly, gripping harder at the thighs under his hands. 

Calum wants to kiss him. He wishes he could, wishes he had enough balls to ask for it but the thought of denial and the crushing embarrassment from it makes him hold back. Instead, he pulls up the hem of Ashton’s shirt, hearing the other boy sigh softly as Calum’s hands slip under the fabric, running over the hot, tanned skin. 

“Can we lose the shirt this time?” he asks, voice breathy as it washes over Ashton’s cheek. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Ashton nods, pulling back. His hands releasing their grip on the back of the couch to run down Calum’s arms, settling on top of his and pushing them further up his sides. “Do you want me to or do you -?”

“I want to.” Calum blurts out eagerly, making both boys laugh. Ashton rests his head down on his shoulder, still grinding out circles in his lap. Calum can feel him tugging at his tie, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt and popping the first few open

He’s bunching up the material of Ashton’s shirt until it’s gathered under his arms, palms flat against his burning skin as they trail up his back. Lips work up his neck as Calum’s fingers play with the loose strands of hair that had come free from Ashton’s ponytail. He needs Ashton to pull back, to remove the shirt completely, but there’s teeth nipping the soft skin below his ear and Calum’s in heaven. 

Honestly, if Ashton has developed a new found obsession with marking up Calum’s neck then who is he to stop him?

They’re both hard, have been since they got into the damn booth. If he wasn’t so focused on mapping out Ashton’s whole body with his hands, Calum would be paying far more attention to the almost painful way his dick is straining against his pants. “Ash? Can we just…” Calum trails off, tugging lightly at the bunched up shirt as a hint.

The other boy makes an almost petulant huffing sound as he pulls back, like he was interrupted from something very important. Calum nearly feels the urge to apologise, but then Ashton is grabbing the ends of the shirt and pulling it from his body in one move, flinging it to the side. 

He’s staring, he can’t help it. Ashton’s right there, half naked and breathing heavily with his lips puffy and shining with spit from all the mark making he’s done. Reaching up, he slides his hands up Ashton’s neck and into his hair, finding the tie holding back his hair and pulling on it, letting it fall loose around his face.  
“I liked you in that hat.” Calum mutters while Ashton’s watches him with dark eyes as the other boy’s fingers dance over his face, over his cheekbones and down over his lips.

They’re pink and soft and so fucking kissable that Calum can’t hold back any more. He’s just about to open his mouth to ask permission when Ashton lets out a tight, boarder line desperate “Fuck it.” hauling Calum up towards him by his unbuttoned collar and smashing their lips together.

Calum whimpers into the kiss, he fucking whimpers, just sinking into it and letting Ashton push him back against the couch. They’re kissing like the other boy’s lips are water after spending a month in the desert, hips grinding and teeth nipping down.

Ashton’s hands are tight in his hair tugging on it, making Calum gasp and his mouth falling open enough for Ashton to slip his tongue in there, the other boy meeting it with his own hungrily. His hands run down the curly haired boy’s front, fingers looping in the belt holes while he flicks at the button with his thumb.

“Off….please.” Calum breaths, hissing when Ashton angles his thrust just right against his cock before lifting himself off his lap. The little shit is smirking as he undoes his pants, Calum’s still feeling a little dizzy from the kiss and moans when Ashton pushes them down past his thighs. He wants to bite them, mark them up, but he suspects there’s a fucking rule about that too.

There’s another thing, much more pressing – quite literally – against the fabric of the black boxers which Calum is sure cling perfectly around Ashton’s ass. He’d had a suspicion that the other boy wasn’t exactly small and he wasn’t wrong, his face heating up when he could literally feel his mouth starting to water.

Ashton throws the pants in the same direction as the shirt, taking Calum’s face in his hands and kissing him soundly as he climbs back onto his lap. “Ash, please.” He whines between kisses, bucking up his hips. He’s so hard, he needs something. Calum reaches down between them, hand over his covered dick and sighs at the pressure.

But then his hand is being batted away, he would complain more but Ashton is kissing the fight out of him. The best Calum can manage are a few disgruntled noises until there’s another hand on him, opening his jeans and cupping his cock through his boxers. “Jesus Christ.” Calum mutters, back arching up into the touch as Ashton starts rubbing him off.

“Is that better?” Ashton asks, lips running up his neck to nip at his earlobe. Calum can only nod, hands gripping onto the other boy’s shoulders and nails digging into the skin. “Look at you, so pretty aren’t you… Pretty boy.”

Ashton’s voice is like honey, warming Calum from the core while his cock twitches under Ashton’s hand. There’s probably pre come soaked right over the front of his boxers and he doesn’t even care, not even that he’s going to have to walk home with come stained underwear at the rate he’s going.

“Faster, Ash. Please, more.” He gasps, grinding back against Ashton’s hand. Calum can’t remember the last time he was this desperate. Can’t remember _anyone_ making him want release as bad as he does right now.

“You gonna come, Cal? Gonna come in your pants from just my hand on your cock?” Ashton coos, it sounds so dirty, so pathetic that it only makes Calum harder and his moans louder. “Come on. Come for me, pretty boy”

That’s it for Calum, his head hits that back wall when he throws it back, hips twitching as he covers the insides of his underwear in come.

He’s dizzy, dazed and fucked out half aware of Ashton re-buttoning his shirt, planting kisses all over his face. Doesn’t even the notice the curtain being pulled back, until Ashton moves off of him, the comforting weight going with him. It’s the session booking lady, she’s giving Ashton a judgmental look as he picks up his pants from the floor, pulling them on.

Calum can’t help but notice how he is still hard.

“For Christ sake, Ashton, this booth was meant to be free ten minutes ago, you know how this works around here.” She says, flashing her gaze over to Calum while Ashton puts his vest on. He almost wants to curl up and away from her stare, feels vulnerable in his post orgasm state with his pants still open. Something which the lady seems to zone in on. “And I hope you had him pay extra for that.” She adds, pointing towards the come drying on Calum’s boxers.

It hits him then. The brutal reality of the situation.

In Calum’s head this was just like any other club seduction all the motions were the same, he’d forgotten that it was only because he was paying for it. Ashton wasn’t even supposed to kiss him, never mind get him off through his pants. He _paid_ for his attention, he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“Yeah, will do.” Ashton mutters, not looking at either of them.

“Make sure of it, you know how the boss feels about this sort of-“

“Yes, Kitty I’m very fucking aware, thank you.” Ashton snaps, Calum flinches back in his seat but the girl just looks unimpressed, closing the curtain with a huff.

The smaller boy paces back and forth for a minute as Calum zips up his pants, wincing at the feeling of the drying come against his skin. It’s fitting he thinks bitterly, considering how dirty he feels on the inside he guesses it’s only right that he is on the outside as well. Metaphorical and poetic and all that shit he was ranted at about in high school.

Ashton’s running a hand through his hair as Calum digs around in his pockets. “Here.” He says, walking over and holding out a couple of notes out for Ashton to take but he doesn’t move, just stares blankly at the money in the dark haired boy’s hand. Sighing Calum slips it into the top of his pants instead, _like he’s some kind of stripper_ his brain supplies helpfully. “How much extra do you want?” he asks in a tight voice.

Ashton looks up at that, eyes wide and it takes years off him. “No, you don’t have –“

“How much, Ash?” Calum presses, watching as Ashton only bows his head, hair falling in front of his face hiding it from view, fists clenched tightly by his sides and refuses to answer. Calum sighs, pulling out a twenty and stepping closer until their feet overlap. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…you made me forget. I’m sorry.” He says, slotting the extra money besides the main payment and turning to leave.

“Wait, Calum, just wait.” Ashton says once Calum has a hand on the curtain. “Will I see you again?”

It’s the smallness in his voice that makes the other boy turn around, sees him looking over at him from behind his hair, tucking part of it behind his ear. Calum wants to say yes, wants to say how he doesn’t think he can stay away if he tried and that he doesn’t even know why, honestly he’s too scared to think about that too much.

He wants to. But he doesn’t.

“I don’t know.” He tells Ashton, who just nods like he knows why, Calum just hope he has the same thought as he does. Hopes Ashton knows that it’s not him that Calum thinks is dirty and cheap, it’s himself for letting it happen.

Calum leaves the strip club with come in his pants, a hollow feeling in his chest, lighter pockets and tears in his eyes.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii, I'm sorry for the like month and a half wait, a mix of end of semester uni work build up and holiday time during which I slowly brought this together when I apparently lost the ability to smut for weeks which was proper irritating but hERE WE ARE! 
> 
> There's one more epilogue-y style smut off which I'm actually pretty excited for and I hope you guys will love, to end this whole thing off with to go, so hold out for that folks! 
> 
> Love you all and thank you so much for kudos/comments and the like you're all so lovely :))) xx

When you’re an adult birthdays are just a bit weird, Calum thinks.

Honestly, once you hit eighteen and twenty one they all just become slightly pointless. The thrill is gone when there’s no presents waiting for you in your living room in the morning, no huge family get together with a painfully awkward rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’. Just a phone call from his mum in the morning a text from his sister and a card through the post before he heads off to work.

Just another day.

Being twenty three now doesn’t make his job any more exciting, it’s the same meetings, the same coffee runs and the same rhythmic hum of the photocopy machine. No one in the office knows it’s his birthday seeing as Calum didn’t exactly feel the need to spread it around too much, not that he was especially close with anyone at work except Luke and Michael.

Neither of whom were in their cubicles when Calum walks in that morning. If it wasn’t for the flash of red hair above the wall of his own and the angry, half-yelling voices that was their idea of whispering, then he would be more worried. Rolling his eyes, Calum pulls out his chair and sits down, shoving his bag on the desk obviously, giving the idiots the benefit of the doubt while listening to the frantic conversation.

“Is that him? Is he here?”

“How the fuck would I know, you’re the one who’s meant to be keeping an eye out.”

“ _Me?_ I thought it was _you?_ ”

“Sometimes being your friend physically pains me, Hemmings.”

“Shut up and grab your popper, I can see his feet under the desk.”

“Okay, on the count of three…one…two… _three!”_

Calum doesn’t even jump when his two best friends leap up from behind the cubicle separator, party poppers in hand which they unleash all over the dark haired boy with a cry of, “Happy Birthday!”

Pieces of stringy confetti flutter down around him, catching on his hair and over the mug of coffee Calum had just raised to his lips. “Morning to you too.” He says, pulling a strand that had landed inside the coffee before taking a sip.

The two other boys turn to each other, Luke’s eager expression slipping slowly off his face as he rests his head on his arms on the top of the cubicle. “You were meant to scream.” He pouts and it’s been years of friendship but that look has never failed to make Calum feel at least a little bad.

“I told you he wouldn’t.” Michael says, tossing the remains of the popper container at Calum’s head, which it hits with a hollow sound and is followed by an over-the-mug-glare from the boy himself.

Luke turns to Michael with a expression that could only be described as ‘fuck off’. “What? No you didn’t you said ‘dude, this will be so great Cal’s gonna shit hi-.’”

“Weren’t you going to go on a coffee run or something?” Michael blurts pointedly, hand clamping down over Luke’s mouth.

The blonde boy huffs walking away with an unimpressed look on his face, muttering. “Get your own fucking coffee, dickhead.” He sounds serious but Calum knows that in ten minutes Luke will be back with two coffees in his hand, one milky with half the companies supply of sugar poured into it, just as Michael likes it.

Luke will always bring the coffee.

Michael will always try not to look overly fond by this fact.

Calum will always love his idiot friends even if he’s spending his day picking confetti off of himself.

~

“So when are you going to get your head out of your ass, or tell us what’s going on with you?”

It’s lunch time when Michael wheels his chair around to Calum’s cubicle, sticking his feet up on the desk and flashing the floor manager a bright smile when she glares at him for it as she passes. “One day that boyish grin isn’t gonna get you out of everything, you know.” Calum tells him, passing over the extra sandwich he always makes sure to pack for the red head.

“Yeah, but Sandra is cool, she loves me deep down.” Michael shrugs, ripping the tin foil from his lunch.

“Deep deep deep deep _deep_ down.” Luke adds, coming around from his own cubicle on the other side and perching on Calum’s desk, throwing an apple to each of them.

Michael holds it up above his face, scrunched up in disgust at the apple held at the stick with two fingers. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“That’s called an apple, Mike. It’s a fruit.” Calum explains, like he’s talking to a kid while Luke hides his laughter with his hand.

“But…my crisps?” the red haired boy pouts.

“Cal told me not to bring them anymore because we’re trying to be ‘healthy’.” Luke explains, complete with airquotes that the dark haired boy doubts are completely necessary, thank you Lucas.

Michael glares at Calum, innocently eating his sandwich. “I didn’t agree to this.” He says, “First you walk around for two weeks like someone pissed in your cereal every morning and now you take my _snacks…_ who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” Calum just shrugs while Michael sighs, putting the apple down on the desk away from him like it’s diseased. “Fine, but we’re going out for drinks tonight so try not to be as zombie as usual.”

For once Calum doesn’t want to go out, wants to stay home and finish off the last few episodes of The Walking Dead he has left and then do exercises on his bedroom floor to blaring loud music, until he feels tired enough to sleep without laying there for hours. Basically the same routine he’s had for the past two weeks now. It’s a nice routine, he likes it.

Besides, clubs now just make him think of things he’d rather not be thinking about. People he’d rather not be thinking about.

The Walking Dead is safe. There are no strippers in The Walking Dead.

~

Calum hates the photocopy room.

Well an empty office room with a photocopier in it since the actual copier room is still in recovery from the new years office party. Apparently the machines aren’t as big fans of champagne as the women on the marketing department are.

Michael also hates the photocopy room. Which is why Calum is very suspicious of his best friend when he insisted he go with him. Especially when Michael hasn’t taken his eyes away from his phone the whole time and isn’t exactly being subtle with the way he’s making sure to angle the screen away from Calum’s eye line.

In short, Calum is suspicious.

 Until there is a heavy knock on the door and Michael practically sprints for the door yelling, “I’ll get it!” Michael never sprints for anything, Calum thinks the last time he saw his best friend move that fast for anything was back in high school when the video game he had been waiting for for weeks finally arrived. Something was definitely going on.

Thankfully – or not so much possibly – Calum only had to wait a few more seconds before whatever Michael’s plan happened to be, or rather _who,_ was being scurried into the room with a last “Happy Birthday, Cal!” shouted over his shoulder, before the door was slammed shut behind him and the sound of the lock clicking into place fills the sudden silence.

 “Oh.” Calum breathes once the echo of the door slamming fades from the room and he takes in the sight of the very familiar boy in front of him.

Ashton’s stood right there, dressed in a suit and tie with his hair slicked back and a bag in his hand. He’s got a small smile on his face that doesn’t seem to meet his eyes, which are watching Calum carefully like Ashton is a cat ready to bolt. “Hi, it’s me again.” He says, raising a hand a few inches and Calum hates how awkward this all feels, like running into an ex in the fruit and veg section of the supermarket.

“Why are you here?”

Two weeks of moping, trying to push the thought of this boy from his mind, of trying to forget the heat of his skin and the taste of him under his tongue, for the bruises to fade and hoping they take the memory with them. Trying to forget the horrible weight of guilt that Calum tried to scrub from his body every day he showered, convinced that Ashton must hate him, convinced he’d ruined it all.

The stuff in the bag shuffles around when Ashton drops it to the floor, “Honestly, I don’t know. I wasn’t going to come at all.” He says, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt and the words hit Calum harder than he would have expected, like a sucker punch to the gut. “But, I did…I wanted to see you, even if maybe you don’t want to see me.”

Calum is in emotional limbo, torn between confusion and hopefulness, as he takes a step closer to the other boy. “I’ve spent every day since I last saw you trying to get you out of my head, Ash.” He admits, taking a step towards him.

“Oh, well yeah I don’t know why I – I just thought that maybe you’d…” Ashton’s face drops, he looks like he’s toying at picking up the bag again and making a run for it. “I’m sorry I was stupid, of course you don’t. I’m just a stripper there’s no way you would-”

“Ash what are you talking about?” Calum nearly snaps, making Ashton look in his eyes for the first time since he entered the room while he frowns, clearly confused.

“Well that’s why you left wasn’t it?” he says, his fingers clutching at his hair when he runs a hand through it. “That’s why they always leave, everyone wants a stripper but just for one night. I don’t know I just thought that maybe you were different, I thought we had… something.”

Calum stares, there’s a little version of him at the back of his mind jumping for freakin joy at the fact that he wasn’t the only one who felt _something_ out of the pair of them. But then Ashton was stood there, looking like all the possible definitions of a kicked puppy and just, no. No, no, no, no, no. That wasn’t on at all in Calum’s book, the sight was just unnatural, like a sad Ashton offended the universe itself.

Most of all were the words that were slowly registering themselves in his head and just how _wrong_ Ashton had gotten the whole thing. “I didn’t leave because you were a stripper, I couldn’t care less about that.” Calum explains “I left because I took advantage of you, of your situation, I got you in trouble. I thought I’d ruined it, that you’d hate me.” He trails off, fixated on the speckled carpet floor.

“You didn’t ruin it Calum.” Ashton says, walking closer towards him with every word. “I wanted it too, I wanted it all, I wanted you not the money I wasn’t even thinking about that, just you.” He’s right in front of him now, practically nose to nose. Ashton’s hands clench in the air between them, like he’s fighting off the urge to just fist them in the taller boy’s shirt, cling on to him as tight as he can, while Calum can only stand there, blinking like the fool he fucking feels.

“Are you serious?”

Ashton sighs, rolling his eyes dramatically. “ _Yes_ , fucking hell, Calum I _like you_ okay.”

The words have barely left his mouth before Calum’s hand is around the back of Ashton’s neck, closing that small gap and crashing their lips together. Admittedly, it’s probably not the best, most eloquent reaction to that kind of declaration, but then Calum has never really been good with words, he’s always been more of a _do-er_.

Which seems to be perfectly fine with Ashton who just about melted into Calum, after the initial shocked squeak was muffled by the kiss. “This is fucking, mental. We barely know each other.” Calum breathes against Ashton’s lips, pressing their foreheads together.

Ashton smirks, continuing to press little darting kisses against the taller boy’s lips as he slowly guides him back to where Calum knows the desk chair is. “Well…why don’t we…play a game?” he says slowly, punctuating his point by gently pushing Calum down into the chair.

“A game?”

“Yeah, a get-to-know-me game.” Ashton says, searching his bag for his ipod and a small docking station. “You know like on first dates when people ask each other all kinds of random questions?” he adds, setting everything up on the side desk and glancing back at Calum, who’s got the cutest confused expression on his face. “Well, like that but a little more… _us_.” Ashton finishes, straightening up from the ipod just as the sound of The Weeknd fills the small office room.

Calum grins as the boy slowly walks back over to him. “So how do we play this game then?”

“What’s your favourite colour?” Ashton asks after a moment, he’s stopped just a few steps away and Calum wants to get up and pull him closer.

He doesn’t, instead he grips the arms of the chair and says, “Blue.” Watching with his breath caught in his chest as Ashton whips off the tie from around his neck, dropping it to the floor beside him. Calum bites his lip, gaze darting from the tie to Ashton’s dark eyes watching him. “Okay I get how this goes, it’s my turn now though.”

The curly haired boy quirks a single brow upwards, and Calum gets the impression he just surprised him a little bit. “Go ahead.” He says with a wave of his hand.

Calum thinks for a minute while slowly loosening his tie, “Favourite season?” he asks, tugging on the back strand so the knot falls apart.

“Spring, it’s like a fresh start.” Ashton says and the dark haired boy nods, throwing his tie to the ground on top of the other, the silver of the fabric contrasting with the black of Ashton’s.

 “My turn then…” Ashton says, flicking open the top button of his shirt, making Calum straighten in his seat. “Do…you have…any…siblings?” he asks, each word coming with a teasing glimpse of skin under the material as another button is lost.

Calum can almost remember how it tasted under his tongue and he feels his mouth dry up at the thought. “Um, sister – like, older. I got an older sister.” He gets out, wanting very much to kiss the smirk of Ashton’s face as he lets the shirt slip from his body.

It’s kinda difficult to think of a question when all his brain wants to do is stare at the half naked boy in front of him, but somehow Calum manages to force out a, “Any pets?”

“We have a dog back home, if that-“

“You have a _dog._ ” Calum nearly squeals - nearly - shooting forward in his chair.

Ashton looks halfway between amused and confused. “Um yeah…wait, oh god you’re one of those crazy dog people aren’t you.” He sighs, face palming dramatically at the excited twinkly in the other boys eyes.

“Excuse you, I am a _sane_ dog person, thank you very much.” Calum corrects him, taking his arms from his shirt after undoing a few buttons and pulling it over his head.

Ashton rolls his eyes, taking a few steps closers as he considers his next question. “What’s your dream?” he finally asks, picking up the silver tie from the ground as he walks closer, slipping it through his fingers.

Calum blinks, he doesn’t have an answer for this, not a serious one. No one has asked him this question since he was twelve years old and they weren’t expecting a serious answer. Plus it’s rather difficult to think when Ashton is stood in front of him, half naked and eyes blown wide.

“Um, I don’t know becoming a production manager wouldn’t be so bad I guess.” Calum shrugs, too busy shifting in his chair to notice that Ashton’s hands on the tie had frozen. “What?” the dark haired boy asks, looking up to see the blank, unimpressed look on the other’s face.

“I’m not taking my pants off for ‘production manager’, that’s not happening.” Ashton states plainly, moving so that his fingers can run up Calum’s arm and up to his shoulders as he walks around the back of the chair. “C’mon, there must be something?” he says in his ear and Calum takes in a stutter breath as he feels a pair of lips on his jaw. “What did you wanna do when you were a kid? If you could do anything in the world right now?”

Images of high school pop into Calum’s head, biking round to Luke’s house after school with his guitar on his back, laying out in his back yard with Mike after they came home from a concert, looking up at the stars and saying how that would be them one day. They were young, basically kids who didn’t know how the world worked just yet. Didn’t want to consider a life like everyone else’s that sounded so boring to a group of sixteen year old boys.

He doesn’t know when it happened, when they stopped talking big dreams and started talking university courses and careers. Sure, they all work in for the same record label - only now it’s in the offices of one – but Calum still can’t say he doesn’t find himself thinking back to those days in Michael’s back yard or Luke’s garage and think ‘what if’ in the early hours of the mornings on occasion.

It’s stupid, he feels stupid that a little part of him still wants that. It’s a boy’s dream and Calum feels his cheeks heating up at just the thought of admitting it. But Ashton’s large hands are smoothing over his skin, up and down his arms. Ashton has magical hands, Calum’s almost certain of it and before he knows it there are words tumbling from his mouth that he’s never spoken to anyone before.

“I mean, I like music. Me, Luke and Mike used to spend summers in Luke’s garage just pissing about and playing guitar together, we’d say how it would be pretty sweet to start a band or something.” He rushes out, shrugging too much trying to make it seem like it’s not a big deal, that it doesn’t matter.

Ashton’s hands stop and Calum thinks _this is it. this is where he laughs and leaves._ He closes his eyes, almost bracing for it. “Why didn’t you?” he asks, and Calum wants to laugh at the genuine incredulous tone to Ashton’s voice.

“We were pretty shit, Ash. All we did was post a couple of videos on youtube but that was it.” he huffs, pulling the other boy around so he’s stood in front again and lacing their fingers together. “So yeah, touring the world with my best friends and playing music that sounds pretty sweet…can you take off your pants now please?” he pouts, tugging at the belt loops of Ashton’s _very_ tight pants.

“Only if you promise to play for me one day.” Ashton smirks, taking a few steps back and Calum almost whines at the distance. Almost.

“Oh c’mon that’s not part of the deal.”

“It is now. Promise or the pants stay.”

The music was the only sound in the small room for a good minute while the two boy’s stared each other down. Calum’s face unwavering in his stubborn expression while Ashton looked on smugly. “Fine, fine I’ll play for you, just take them off already.” Calum finally breaks, head rolling back in his seat as Ashton pops open the button with a huge grin.

Hours, he could spend hours practicing and Calum knows that he would never be able to take pants as tight as that off and not embarrass himself while doing it. Ashton does it like it’s easy and somehow still make it sexy, but then Ashton could do pretty much anything and Calum would find it sexy just because it was _Ashton_ doing it.

“Come here.” He says, making grabby hands while his eyes roam over all the new skin now on show and he tries not to openly drool. He does have _some_ small shreds of dignity left.

Ashton settles himself in Calum’s lap, hands tracing the lines of the tanned boy’s chest while Calum’s cling on to Ashton’s thighs like his life depends on it. “What’s your next question then, pretty boy?”

Calum hums, fingers slipping under the fabric of the boxers clinging to Ashton’s thigh. “Do you still wanna play this game?” he asks, looking up at the other boy through hooded eyelids, smiling ever so slightly as he pushes his hands completely under the material and hears Ashton gasp.

“If I’m honest.” The older boy mutters, starting to gently rock his hips down against Calum’s. “I’ve kinda been wanting to get down and suck you off ever since I saw you in the club that night.” Ashton admits, lips brushing up against the boy’s beneath him.

“Well, it is my birthday.” Calum manages to smirk before the other boy is closing the space and taking his bottom lip between his own. It’s ironic, Calum thinks, how every time Ashton kisses him it’s like his breath is being punched from his chest but he’s never felt more alive than when Ashton’s tongue is teasing along the edges of his lips.

Then he’s pulling back, away and off Calum until he’s kneeling on the floor in front of him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Then let’s lose these pants, birthday boy.” Ashton suggests, hands running down Calum’s side towards the hem of his work pants.

“Yeah, yeah please.” Calum mutters, lifting his hips from the chair as the button pops open. There is the tiniest gasp when his pants are tugged to his ankles in a single move, he’d be more concerned with sounding too desperate if Ashton’s face wasn’t literally a couple of inches from the obvious bulge in his boxers.

The gasp turns into a full out whimper when Ashton suddenly moves forward, softly mouthing at Calum’s dick through the material. Large hands are tight on his thighs, fingers trailing under the edge of his underwear as Ashton moves from base to tip, sucking lightly. “C’mon, Ash please.” Calum pleads, trying to shift his hips only to have the grip on him keep him down.

His hands are holding on to the arms of the chair when he finally feels his boxers start to slip down. Ashton’s still focusing on the head of Calum’s dick, leaving damp patches on the grey fabric that’s either from his mouth or the pre come or a mix of the two. He lifts off to pull the boxers away fully and Calum out right moans, either at the rush of cool air or the brush of the material over the head of his cock.

The moans quickly turn into a slight choke when Ashton immediately takes the tip into his mouth, tongue swiping a long line over the tip. The sudden switch from teasing to the wet heat of Ashton’s mouth making Calum’s toes curl and his head fall back.

“Jesus, fuck.”

His hands are flexing around the chair arms and Ashton is inching further and further down, until Calum can nearly feel the tip of his cock brushing the back of his throat when, “You can like, pull my hair…if you want.” Ashton breaths, popping off Calum’s dick and looking up at him with blown glassy eyes and lips shining with spit, the other boy can’t really focus on much else never mind responding.

But when Ashton practically dives back down, taking him right to the point he pulled off in one quick motion, Calum’s groaning and his hands are shooting away from the chair, pulling the tie from Ashton’s hair as gently as he can and tangling his fingers in the curls. There’s an appreciative hum around his dick when he tugs lightly and the other boy’s hands twitch in their grip on his thighs so Calum does it again.

Harder.

Ashton gags slightly as the cock hits his throat, releasing his hold on Calum’s thigh to subtly palm himself through his own boxers. Calum bites his lip, fingers grasping just a little tighter, the fact that Ashton is hard just from sucking him off is just really fucking hot.  

“Shit, babe, I’m close.” He hisses, the pet name slipping out without thought and it’s either that or how close Calum is to bursting that has Ashton pulling back up. His tongue running the length up the vein on Calum’s dick before sucking lightly on the head like it’s his new favourite sweet. Then bobbing back down, farther than before so Ashton’s nose is bushing up on the skin of his stomach.

Without the added pressure of Ashton’s hand on his thigh, which is too busy being slipped inside his own underwear, Calum’s hip buck up. When there’s more gagging and a pair of watery hazel eyes glancing back at him from under a fringe of curls, Calum is about to apologise until Ashton hums encouragingly, moving slightly faster.

Swallowing, he shifts his hips every so often, each time tugging on Ashton’s hair until he’s practically holding his head steady while Calum works his cock past his lips. There’s a tightening in his gut that only grows when he pushes the strands of hair covering Ashton’s face back, letting Calum watch as he fucks his mouth, as Ashton just _takes it_.

When Ashton’s eyes meet his he knows he’s fucked. On the edge, he starts trying to tug the other boy off in warning, but Ashton only gets a determined look in his eyes, swallowing Calum down to the base just as the younger boy releases down his throat with a barely hidden moan of relief.

Vision slightly blurry and legs so weak he’s honestly afraid to stand up for a while, Calum’s brain manages to remind him of the fact that there is a very hot, very hard, very desperate boy kneeling at his feet with his hand in his pants. Calum hates injustice and an orgasm for an orgasm is only fair, he would hate to be seen as greedy after all.

“Come here.” Calum says reaching out for him, or well what he means to say when in reality he’s sure it probably came out as a weird grunt and a caveman style hand gesture.

Ashton seems to pick up the meaning anyway, seeing as the next thing Calum knows he has a lap full of very attractive boy while attempting to pull his dick from his boxers while kissing the life out of him.

 Calum has never been more thankful of the fact that he can multi task more than when Ashton’s tongue is in his mouth and Calum’s hand is wrapped around his dick.

The angle is weird, Ashton’s cock slightly crushed in the space between them but if anything this seems to help, every time the head brushes Calum’s stomach Ashton seems to melt a little further against him. They give up kissing when it becomes more breathing into each other’s mouths than anything productive. Calum’s trying to work his hand over Ashton’s cock as fast as he can given the space, while the other boy rocks his hip to the touch with his forehead resting against Calum’s shoulder.

Ashton’s pretty quiet when he comes, all breathy low moans and nails digging into Calum’s arms. Which he finds he doesn’t actually mind that much, especially not when he has an arm full of post orgasmic boy and said boy’s come streaking his stomach.  

“Never let anyone fuck my mouth before.” Is the first thing that Ashton mumbles into the warm skin of Calum’s shoulder. “You should be honoured, pretty boy.” He laughs weakly, poking his chest playfully.

“Trust me, I feel it.” Calum says, enjoying the feather light kisses being pressed along his collarbone. His legs are starting to fall asleep so he shifts in his seat, groaning at the feel of the dried come on his stomach. “Although, you could have taken one for the team and come in your pants, some of us have to go back to work you know.” He teases, while Ashton leans back to examine the mess.

“I’ve got something for that.” He says, tucking both their dicks away and getting up from Calum’s lap to walk over to his bag.

“You’re like a stripper cub scout.” Calum snorts, with all the fond in the world when Ashton returns with a packet of wet wipes.

The older boy stops in front of him, eyebrow arching, “You know if you’re going to tease I could just leave you with a come covered stomach all day, it’s your choice.” He threatens, hand on his hip giving off the aura of a mildly berating parent.

Calum carefully wipes the smile from his face, “I’m sorry, babe will you pretty please wipe the come off my stomach?” he amends in his best serious voice.

“Fine, but only because you called me babe.” Ashton says, a smirk stretching onto his face as he whips a wipe out of the packed and kneels down. Never before has someone wiped come from someone with such concentration, Calum thinks, reaching out to trace the curves of Ashton’s face with his fingers as he works.

“I want to take you out.” He blurts out suddenly and okay, when he pictured this moment in his head Ashton definitely wasn’t cleaning up is own come. But it was come from two pretty awesome orgasms so he also figures it’s not all bad.

The cool touch of the wipe is gone when Ashton blinks up at him, “Like…on a date?” he asks like the idea is completely foreign to him.

“Yeah, you noob a date date, like to dinner and stuff, if you like –“

Calum would be more annoyed at his pretty poetic description being cut off if it wasn’t because Ashton was kissing him, albeit briefly so that Calum leaned forward when they spilt, chasing the feeling. “Yes, a date sounds great.”

Both boys can't stop beaming when Calum brings them back together, the come and work forgotten. If he’s late for his next shift then only Luke and Michael know why.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> I do have more in mind for this fic for at least another two chapters/parts so idk, if you'd like that then please say so :)
> 
> hmu on tumblr if you like, cliffakitten.tumblr.com


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